by Grant, Livia
“Night, Thomas.”
He carried her straight to his bedroom—to his bed.
Only when he laid her down and went to take off her high heels, he saw she’d made a mess on her beautiful gown. Nolan rushed to unzip the dress and strip it off her before the mess spread to his comforter. Piper’s shoes were next, followed by the diamond armbands, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings the Ice Queen was famous for.
It was a bit like unwrapping a present as he got her down to her tiny panties and the weirdest pasty-things stuck to her boobs where a bra should have been.
If he were a gentleman, he’d tuck her in, but there was nothing in their history that called for being a gentleman. Once he had them both naked, he pulled the covers down and gently placed Piper’s head on the pillow. For a moment, he thought she was going to wake up and ruin his plan when she rolled onto her side, tucking her knees up.
Nolan breathed a sigh of relief when she failed to wake up. Crawling into bed, he turned off the lights before rolling until he could reach out and spoon Piper’s sexy body. Her soft sigh as he nuzzled against her gave him hope that even if she fought against them while she was awake, in her sleep, her body recognized how perfect they were together.
He laid awake, thinking through their extraordinary night together. They’d made great progress, but he wasn’t naive. He knew he had a long way to go before he’d win Piper over for good.
He finally nodded off, dreaming about how he’d put the next phase of his plan into motion the next morning.
Chapter 18
“You do realize you look like a loser, sitting out here, staring at your phone all night, right?”
The jab had come from his agent, John Graves, but he’d heard the same complaint from numerous women wanting to dance. Even Boeing had given him shit earlier before he’d left with Piper.
Shane shoved his phone into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He’d changed out of his tux into a more casual suit for the string of after-parties he normally enjoyed. This year, nothing seemed normal. He’d been trying unsuccessfully to get ahold of Nalani for over an hour, and it annoyed him she wasn’t answering. It annoyed him, even more, he cared so much.
He pushed to his feet just as his agent sat down in the empty chair next to him. He wasn’t in the mood to chitchat. “I’m heading out.”
“Aw, come on. Have a seat. I want to talk for just a minute.” John patted the seat he’d just vacated.
Shane snuck a peek at his watch—eleven forty-five. Taking a seat, he waved over a roving waiter to snag a bottled beer as he started the timer with Graves.
“You’ve got ten minutes. My car is picking me up at midnight.”
Technically, that was a lie. He hadn’t texted his driver yet, but Graves didn’t need to know that.
“Why so distracted tonight? You turning back into a pumpkin at midnight?”
His agent’s joke fell flat. Shane wasn’t in the mood. It scared him to admit it, but it felt wrong being there tonight, hobnobbing with Hollywood’s elite when Nalani was home, doing her laundry. He didn’t understand her reluctance to be seen with him. He’d never met anyone like her before.
“Hello? Are you even paying attention?”
“Shit. Sorry, man. I’m a bit distracted tonight.”
“You don’t say. I have to admit, I’ve never seen you like this.”
“What, distracted?”
“No. Smitten. Usually, it’s the women chasing you, not the other way around. Care to share names?”
Busted.
“Nothing to share, man. What was it you needed?” Shane pushed to change the subject.
“Right. Well, the studio wants to move the Blessed Betrayal schedule up by two months to accommodate Khloe Monroe’s schedule. She had a conflict with the original timeline. I told them I’d check with you, but technically, you could make it work.”
“Fuck that,” Shane objected. He kept to himself the main reason he didn’t want to move the schedule around was it would take him away from Nalani two months earlier than already planned. He didn’t think what they had going would have run its course by then, or at least he hoped it hadn’t. “You had better have told them no.”
“I told them I’d check with you, but we’ll have to come up with a pretty solid reason for turning them down.”
“Bullshit. Khloe will have to come up with a solid reason why she can’t make the originally scheduled dates. This is on her, not me.”
“Maybe, but I get the sense no one wants to go up against Ryder Helms. He can be a real asshole where protecting Khloe is concerned.”
“What the fuck does that matter?” This conversation was annoying Shane. “He’s her bodyguard and boy-toy. She needs to keep him in line.”
Even as he said it, he knew his assertion was bullshit. He’d seen Ryder and Khloe’s dynamic in action. She may be the famous movie star, but there was no doubt in his mind, Ryder Helms called all the shots in that little family unit. Still, it wasn’t his problem.
Shane pushed to his feet, reaching back into his pocket for his phone and texting his driver to pull the car around. He grabbed his beer, deciding to take it for the limo as he said goodbye to his agent.
“Try your best to keep them on the original schedule. I gotta run, but we’ll talk later this week.”
Not waiting for a reply, he turned and weaved along the patio, passing a pool full of semi-naked revelers, past a couple making out in a secluded cabana, and down a dark walkway he hoped was a shortcut to the front drive. He texted Nalani again while he waited for his driver.
* * *
I want you naked and in my bed when I get back to my room. XOXO
* * *
XOXO? What the hell? Since when did he sign his texts with hugs and kisses?
He knew the answer—since he met Nalani. A lot of things felt different with his Hawaiian beauty… and she was his.
The trip to his home-away-from-home took what felt like forever in the post-show traffic jam. Shane had the time to polish off the beer and move on to finish off the end of the bottle of champagne the limo driver had supplied. He had a nice buzz going by the time he stepped out in front of the Runway mansion. He took the tall steps two at a time, anxious to get upstairs.
He wasn’t in the mood for the locked door.
“Fuck.”
Shane patted down his pants, looking for his wallet that had his keycard. He was still looking for the card when the front door opened to reveal a burly security guard.
“We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Covington, although to be honest, I wasn’t sure if you’d make it back here tonight or if you’d be out partying. Calling it quits a bit early?”
Shane wanted to tell the asshole to mind his own business, but since he knew all the security staff had to know he was seeing Nalani, he decided to prod the guy for information instead.
“Actually, I’m hoping Nalani is upstairs, waiting for me. Did she get here yet?” he asked hopefully.
“Nalani? No, I’ve been here since four, and I haven’t seen her since Roger escorted her to her car after the Ainsworth debacle.”
Shane had started to turn away when the guy had said Nalani wasn’t there, but the mention of Henry Ainsworth caught his attention, and he turned back.
“What Ainsworth debacle?”
He didn’t like the look on the guard’s face one bit as the guy stumbled over his words. “You mean… didn’t Nalani tell you?”
“Tell me what?” he snapped, impatient for answers.
“Well… I’m not at liberty to—”
“Fuck that,” Shane cut him off, grabbing the guy’s arm. “If it involves Nalani, you need to tell me.” When the guy kept his mouth shut, Shane added a stern, “Now. Or do I have to call your boss?”
He fully expected the guy to spill the story to avoid getting his boss involved, so when the asshole reached for his own phone and added, “Actually, I think that’s a good idea. Let’s call him now,” his anxiety spiked.
> What the hell was going on here? This whole night was fucked-up. Why hadn’t he insisted she just come with him? Then they’d be back at the party dancing, or maybe they’d be the ones making out near the pool. His cock stirred, just thinking about it.
The guard talking to someone in Spanish jarred him back to reality. Shane spoke a bit of Spanish, but he couldn’t make out much of the conversation, so he was relieved when the guard turned and handed his own phone to Shane.
“Here, my boss wants to talk to you.”
Shane held the phone up to his ear just as the guy on the other end asked, “Mr. Covington?”
“Yeah. What the hell’s going on? What happened after I left today?” he asked with a growing sense of dread.
“Don’t worry, we handled it.”
“That’s not what I asked. What. Happened?” Maybe the asshole would respond better to a demand.
“I’m not at liberty to say. You’ll need to talk to Nalani about…”
“I’d fucking love to talk to Nalani about it, but since she’s not here and not answering her phone, I guess I’ll have to settle for your side of the story instead.”
“It doesn’t work that way. If she wants you to know, she’ll have to tell you herself.”
What the fuck?
“Fine, I’ll be happy to have her tell me. I need her address. She’s not answering my calls.”
The asshole on the other end of the phone had the balls to laugh at him. “No fucking way. If she didn’t give you her address herself, there’s no way I’m giving it to you.”
If he was honest with himself, he was happy to see Nalani’s co-workers protecting her security, but he was the last person she needed protection from. Even as he thought it, he knew that was a lie. He’d pushed her out of her comfort zone in their time together. Had he pushed her too far? Was she avoiding him intentionally?
It had been a long time since Shane had felt as vulnerable as he did at that moment. Was it possible he’d lost her already?
The silent standoff continued until Shane gave in. “Fine. I’ll wait and talk to her tomorrow. Thanks for nothing.”
He ended the call and tossed the phone back to the guard, who almost didn’t catch it. He knew he was being an asshole, but he didn’t bother thanking the guy or even saying goodbye. Instead, Shane turned toward the impressive staircase and took the stairs two at a time, suddenly in a hurry to get to his room.
He’d texted her. Maybe the guard had missed Nalani’s arrival. He let his hopes rise as he neared the door to his suite, sure he would open the door to find her naked and waiting for him.
A dark, empty room greeted him as soon as he swung open the door. He threw the light switch, only to be disappointed again she wasn’t waiting in the dark to surprise him.
His level of disappointment annoyed him. How had he let himself fall this hard for a woman? A housekeeper, no less. He embraced his agitation with her, hoping it would help him squash the growing feelings he had for the Hawaiian beauty. As much fun as they’d had together, Shane wasn’t ready to settle down or make a commitment and knew that was what a woman like Nalani deserved. She wasn’t a Hollywood player or even a groupie.
Determined to ignore his insecurities, Shane went through his bedtime routine—stripping down to his boxer briefs, taking a whiz, and brushing his teeth to wipe the stale booze taste from his mouth.
It was only once he lay down in the huge king-sized bed—alone there for the first time in a week—the certainty something was really wrong gripped him hard and wouldn’t let go. Shane forced aside emotional considerations and let his brain think through the night again logically.
There had been nothing in their last twenty-four hours together that hinted she was preparing to bolt. On the contrary, he was certain she’d only been a hair’s breadth away that afternoon from changing her mind and going to the Oscars or at least the after parties with him. Even after he’d left, Nalani had been texting him throughout the day, right up until he’d let her know he had to run because his limo had arrived to pick him up at the studio where he’d been getting ready for his public appearance.
He knew it, deep down—what they had wasn’t over yet.
That meant there had to be another reason why she wasn’t taking his calls.
Maybe her phone was broken, or the battery had died.
Maybe she was out having fun with her friends… or an old lover.
Fuck. He pushed his jealousy aside, praying that wasn’t the case.
His thoughts turned darker. What if she was in trouble? The memory of the guard’s slip of the Ainsworth debacle. What the hell was that about? He thought back to the first moment he’d met Nalani in the hallway a few weeks before, remembering and hating the palpable fear he’d seen on her face as she’d fled the older movie executive.
It only took one minute of lying in bed and mulling things over before Shane knew with certainty he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep until he’d talked with Nalani. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he hit her number again for the tenth time, once again getting her voicemail. The sweet sound of her voice, letting him know he could leave a message was enough to make him spring to his feet.
Shane stalked to the walk-in closet, throwing on the bright lights as he grabbed a pair of worn jeans from the hanger Nalani had no doubt hung them. Grabbing a black T-shirt from a drawer, he threw it on as he found a pair of casual slip-ons, jamming his feet in, not bothering to fix the part folded uncomfortably under his heel.
He stopped at the desk near the window to grab his wallet and room key before taking off at a near jog—out the door, down the hall, and through the dark mansion. It was odd being in the normally busy club on a Sunday night after closing.
Shane headed through the kitchen toward the back of the club to the door that led out to the expansive patio. Only after he’d pushed through the door did he realize he might be setting off alarms in the security office. Not wanting to take a chance of being stopped, he took off at a jog into the dark night. He was grateful the stone pathway at the bottom of the stairs was lit by dim landscape lighting and the half-moon overhead.
In the distance, he thought he heard a man shouting, but it only made him pick up his pace, weaving through the massive property—around patios, past small gardens with benches for guests to sit and enjoy, cutting through the fenced pool area where he could hear the waterfall feature that was the picturesque backdrop to the parties held there.
Shane was just starting to feel winded when he got close enough to Jaxson Davidson’s house to realize how angry the club owner was about to get at being awakened after midnight. For the briefest of moments, Shane slowed, reconsidering his ludicrous plan.
How long had it been since he’d been so crazy about a woman, he’d contemplated doing anything as remotely crazy?
The answer was never—not once.
The realization he’d fallen in love with Nalani Ione came to him with certainty that couldn’t be denied. He welcomed the notion as the truth. It made it easier to push down his reticence and knock on the first door he came to, just past the three-car garage.
Motion sensor lights almost blinded him as they flooded the whole porch area as he alternated between pounding and pushing the doorbell over and over until he saw lights coming on inside the wall of windows facing the pool behind him.
Only after it started moving, he realized there was a camera lens pointed in his direction next to the door. He glowered into it, so Davidson would see it was him and not an intruder. He heard the locks disengaging just before Jaxson Davidson yanked the door open.
“What the ever-loving fuck are you doing pounding on my door at one in the morning, Covington?”
“I need Nalani’s address.”
“Seriously?” The sound of a baby screaming in the background was getting louder. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
“Maybe, but something’s wrong. I know it.”
The sound of a second baby crying could be heard down
the hall behind where they were standing. The fact Shane didn’t even feel guilty for waking them up confirmed he was doing the right thing, despite the fury on the homeowner’s face.
“I ought to call the police on you. There has to be something in the law books preventing assholes from ringing doorbells in the middle of the night and waking up infants.”
Shane wasn’t in the mood for their normal verbal banter. “What the hell happened with Ainsworth after I left today?” he pressed.
He didn’t miss the flash of anger cross Davidson’s face just before the club owner swung the door open and turned to walk away.
“Close the door behind you. I’ll grab us some drinks.”
While he was glad he wasn’t being thrown out, Shane wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. He just wanted her damn address. Was that so hard?
Jaxson met him in the open great room with a wall of windows that faced the pool and mansion beyond. He had to hand it to the model-turned-entrepreneur. He had a really great thing going here.
A can of soda came into his view before he heard Davidson open his and take a few swigs.
“You should take a seat.”
Shane turned on him, practically throwing the still closed can back at his host.
“I’m not here for a social call. I just need her address, then you can go back to sleep.”
Jaxson glanced in the direction of the cries coming from deeper in the house before adding, “Yeah, well, it isn’t going to be that easy.”
For the first time, Shane felt a sliver of guilt. “Sorry, I woke your kids up, but if your security guys had just given me her address, I wouldn’t have had to bother you,” he accused.
“No, but if they’d given you her address, I would have had to fire them tomorrow. Now, are you gonna shut-up, take a seat, and listen, or do I need to give them a call to escort you off the property?”
The fucker. He really was an asshole. But considering the asshole stood between him and answers, Shane stalked to the nearby couch and took a seat.
